


Whumptober 2019: Trembling

by Millberry_5



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Helix Waltz (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks, Trembling, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 16:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21256040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millberry_5/pseuds/Millberry_5
Summary: Part of my Whumptober 2019 series. Day 20 prompt: TemblingMagda has to attend a ball. She's worried about screwing it up. This causes a panic attack. Which leads to behaviors that might actually make her screw up the ball.If only she could get people to give her a moment to herself.





	Whumptober 2019: Trembling

Tonight’s dress is red, because “red’s raging,” as Miss Rebecca and Miss Marvelia told her yesterday at tea. Although dress may be a bit of a stretch. There’s fabric, certainly. But it’s draped across Magda’s torso with so many fasteners in odd places, and she doesn’t even know if there’s a single seam on top. Not that she’d be able to see it with all the shimmery fabric’s crisscrossed lines. The complicated bit stops at her waist, thank the goddess, to fall in strips that seem like a full skirt. Until she moves, of course, a tricky seduction of giving glimpses of what seems to be her bare legs.

Thankfully, her mother also allowed her to wear sheer pantyhose this time.

Magda makes her way toward the entrance of the ball and tries to hold back the panic attack that she’s been fighting for the past two hours.

Still, as she approaches the footmen at the doors, it seems she may have run out of time. She can’t stop shivering.

She doesn’t want to be at this ball. In a weird dress she has to be so careful with and still managed to fit a corset under it. She can’t even remember who’s hosting it or who will here. She can’t think of any way to prevent herself from screwing things up again while trying to get whatever information the patron’s asked for this time.

She’s sure that if she goes into this ball, she’ll end up getting played again, like that time with Zoe. She’d made two missteps in the past week conversing with nobles. Willow was annoyed with her for trying to follow him to the slums. People in the slums were still going missing. Some of her oren friends had been beaten yesterday and she couldn’t do anything.

She was going to screw up this ball. Why was she even here? She was going to commit some faux pas and let some things slip and then she’ll be in trouble and she’ll have made everything worse.

The footman at the door either doesn’t notice how much hand is trembling or has enough tact to ignore it as she hands him her card.

She holds her hands clasped behind her as she enters the ball proper, like the Raycorans did sometimes, to hide the trembling.

She starts her usual rounds. She talks to Lady Brucilla before managing to snag a few moments with Balfey. She still hasn’t stopped trembling, but neither of them notices. Of that she’s certain.

Still, as she and Balfey talk about his newest business venture, which Magda thinks will have to be abandoned and covered up next week, if her talks with Barris have given her any insight into how business actually works, she knows she needs a moment alone.

Surely her mother and their patron will forgive her for a few moments spent not working?

She distracts Balfey by catching Lyanna’s eye. Once she’s beaten the other girl, it’s easy enough to use Balfey’s praise to get the two to argue with each other, both eternally ready to yell their bits of pride and enthusiasm from the rooftops.

Magda moves to a balcony in the commotion. Here, she finally lets herself tremble openly.

She’s doing fine. She doesn’t understand why she can’t calm down, can’t stop her body from shivering or her heart from racing. Why she can’t think. Why the idea of talking to another person makes her want to puke.

“Country girl, there you are,” Magda turns to face Barbalius, knowing that she can’t hide the trembling as well as she needs to, and curtsies.

She opens her mouth, to try to address him, as she looks down at the ground, but can’t manage it. She comes out of the curtesy, still silent.

Thankfully, Barbalius seems to not need her to speak, “I was wondering if you would do me the honor of a dance? This piece is so beautiful, it’s not to be wasted,” he says, holding his hand out.

Magda stares at it in horror, knowing she has no good excuse to refuse. Worse, there’s no good reason except for her weakness.

She takes a deep, shaky breath in and tries to steel herself.

Before she can do more than plaster another smile on her face, however, someone else enters the balcony.

“Oh! Sir Barbalius, I didn’t notice you had joined Magda and I,” Duchess Olineaux lies, her usual gentle, matronly smile on her face.

Barbalius startles at the interruption, “Duchess,” a proper bow, “I had not seen you. Apologies for interrupting.”

“No, no, don’t worry. One of the servants needed clarification on a few things and I had to step out for a moment,” she continues.

It only takes a moment for Barbalius to confirm there will be no invitation to stay on the balcony, “Far be it from me to deprive you of your companion, Duchess Olineaux. Excuse me,” he says, making his exit.

The Duchess, unlike the rest of her family, Magda still feels like the woman is too far above her to use her given name, even in the privacy of thoughts, smiles warmly at her. Genuinely.

“I-” Magda tries to say… something, but still can’t manage. Everything is too much and she still cant’s stop shaking, even as she grabs onto her own elbows and hunches like she’s wanted to do all night.

The dress’s slings of fabric shift and protest at the move, fasteners digging into her skin as punishment for not standing in perfect posture.

Duchess Olineaux closes the distance between them and guides Magda to a bench, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“There, there, dear,” she soothes, using her brown cloak to the wrap the two of them in warmth, “you’re working so hard. It’s okay, just take a break. Breathe.”


End file.
